


when the past is all deception, the future futureless

by subliminally



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, The Velvet Room (Persona Series), every game besides p1 has been or will be mentioned, major p5 spoilers, some vague spoilers for other games
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 04:38:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18308354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subliminally/pseuds/subliminally
Summary: ren bows, polite and measured.“welcome,” he says. “to the velvet room.”





	when the past is all deception, the future futureless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> take this.......... just take it  
> if you're here for akeshu, it's in act ii i promise. we gotta... establish.... warm up.... make friends  
> and the wikihow article that ren reads is [how to talk to your crush without being crushed](https://www.wikihow.com/Talk-to-Your-Crush-Without-Being-Crushed)

** ACT I **

_I WAS STILL THE SAME, KNOWING MYSELF YET BEING SOMEONE OTHER_

 

* * *

* * *

 

the velvet room is never without appearance, theo has said. whether an elevator, or a limousine, or any number of inventions, its nature is to adapt. in the times where there is no guest for which to provide guidance, it simply reverts to a previous form, belladonna singing her eternal song to nameless’ eternal music. for much of the same reason, the attendants of the velvet room vary significantly, both in design and in personality.

theo is gullible and polite, though relishes greatly when he has the opportunity to display his own knowledge or strength. lavenza is soft-spoken and kind, with a sharpness in her irritation that he and theo are careful to avoid. margaret is serious, radiating professionalism even when she is pulling a prank, but her anger is severe enough to frighten all of them aside from the master himself. it multiplies tenfold when elizabeth is spoken of.

they do not speak of elizabeth.

he knows he is not an attendant, his hair too dark, his eyes too dull. to him, without the master and margaret present, the velvet room appears as a maze, thick blue leaves extending upwards in all directions with large lotus flowers scattered across its walls. he sits quietly at its entrance, reading a book that theo recommended, only for the maze to melt and stretch into a limousine that he has heard precious little about.

“igor -” narukami yu - and it must be narukami yu - stops and regards him with unexpected warmth, offering a smile that he returns out of reflex. “oh, you’re new. hi, i’m narukami yu.”

as a resident of the velvet room, he already knows narukami yu’s name, but he believes that the introduction is meant to be kind. he smiles again, polite and even as he’s been taught. his bow is equally perfect. “hello, wild card. the master and margaret have stepped out. is there anything you need?”

he cannot help with fusion and he does not have the compendium, but he is just as capable of holding skill cards on the wild card’s behalf. he is not strong, but neither is he useless.

narukami yu shakes his head, silver hair shining in the light, and takes a seat next to him. he can sense how comfortable and unguarded narukami yu is and feels... flattered, perhaps. to hold a wild card’s attention is no small feat.

“just wanted to say hi,” narukami yu says. “you can call me yu, don’t worry about titles or anything. how long have you been here? i’ve never seen you around before. are you an assistant like marie was?”

“yes.” the comparison to marie puts something bitter into his mouth. it tastes like ash. he certainly hopes he is not too much like her - it would be impossibly dangerous.

“i don’t know how long it’s been. time doesn’t pass the same way in the velvet room as it does for humans.”

“so you’re not human,” naru - yu replies, mostly to himself. he does not say that he doesn’t know, that he cannot remember. “what do you do in here? it must be boring, sitting in a limousine all the time.”

“it only appears this way when you are here.” as an assistant, he has no use for lies. his duty is to aid, not to deceive - he was never taught how to say anything but the truth. “when you leave, it reverts to another room with a singer, painter, and pianist. besides, there are plenty of books to read.”

he has never been taught to lie, yet he lies by omission. yu thinks nothing of it. he thinks of nothing but it.

“oh really? it must be weird to live somewhere so ever-changing.”

“not to me. there is nothing to compare it to.”

“so you’ve never left the velvet room?” yu asks.

he pulls on his fringe, upsetting the waves in a way he knows will leave frizz behind. “no,” he manages. the velvet room is all he has ever known.

yu takes his free hand. it is warm to counter his own chill, larger than his in a way that feels comforting. he stands when yu pulls on their joined hands to nudge him into doing so, not quite understanding.

“i’m gonna take you,” yu tells him.

yu is all bright eyes and a pretty smile and he is all fear, another piece of humanity that an assistant does not require and he possesses in spades. he tries twice to pull his hand free, succeeding on the second and shaking his head even when he feels weighed down like a stack of books.

“i can’t.”

his voice is thin. yu changes tactics immediately; he watches warm hands flip outwards, palms facing forward in a gesture he recognises as surrender, as being non-threatening, without knowing why.

“i’m sorry for scaring you. if you can’t leave then i won’t try to force you, but i just want to know... is it that you _can’t_ or that you _won’t?”_

the nuance of language is difficult. he frowns. the limousine is patient and silent in its wait for his response. “i… both? i don’t want to leave because i shouldn’t leave. it’s unsafe.”

if he leaves, if he remembers and he is just like marie, then he will never forgive himself. much better to never know.

“unsafe for who?”

the master returns the velvet room in a gentle wave of air, materialising in his usual seat. he regards both of them with a smile, as unaffected as he ever is, with margaret a loyal presence at his side. he scrambles to take his seat like an assistant is supposed to, head bowed down.

“wild card,” he greets in his congested tones. “i see you’ve met my newest assistant. he will be the guide for our next guest.”

so he shall. he wonders why a true velvet room attendant can’t fulfil the duty instead, but knows better than to ask.

yu speaks to the master and margaret for some time afterwards. he has no interest in eavesdropping no matter what a distant part of him insists, so he keeps his head ducked into the novel and reads quietly.

_meanwhile, in a retired vale, aeneas sees a sequestered grove and rustling forest thickets, and the river lethe drifting past those peaceful homes. about it hovers peoples and tribes unnumbered; even as when, in the meadows, in cloudless summertime, bees light on many-hued blossoms and stream round lustrous lilies and all the fields murmur with the humming._

_aeneas is startled by the sudden sight and, knowing not, asks the cause – what is that river yonder, and who are the men thronging the banks in such a host? then says father anchises: “spirits they are, to whom second bodies are owed by fate, and at the water of lethe’s stream they drink the soothing draught and long forgetfulness. —“_

“hey.” when he raises his head, yu is there, apology visible all over his face. “i don't wanna take you too far out from your reading but i’m heading out, so i wanted to say bye.”

“oh,” he shuts the book with a small level of embarrassment, duty singing in his veins, and brushes himself off as he stands. “i’m so sorry, i should have been paying more attention. goodbye, wild card.”

“you don’t have to apologise,” yu laughs. it’s a sweet sound. he can feel a new warmth on his cheeks in its echoes. “i never got your name, though.”

 _i do not know it,_ he does not say. _there is so much that i do not know._

he recalls mazes and lotus flowers.

“ren.” he says.

he cannot think of a time where he’s ever been referred to by a true name. the master simply addresses him without moniker, and the attendants call him assistant. he has never minded it before.

“ren,” yu repeats. something inside of him rejoices at a collection of sounds reserved just for him. so simple, yet so precious. “it was nice to talk to you, ren. i’ll see you soon?”

“until we meet again, yu.”

“names are power,” the master says once yu has gone. margaret watches him cautiously, as though he is a puzzle with a handful of missing pieces. he knows the look - he regards himself in the mirror with one identical to it. “ren.”

“so they are,” ren replies.

 

* * *

  

"assistant! tell us what narukami yu is like! margaret never wants to share!"

as the youngest of the residents, younger even than ren himself (though he isn't quite sure how age works for the assistants, he guesses that she's around ten to his own fourteen), lavenza has never been summoned to the velvet room. in all technicalities, ren has never been summoned either, but the master has granted him freedom to roam. by stark contrast, lavenza is not allowed to manifest beyond her lodgings with her siblings.

her voice brings theo's attention away whatever book he has taken to reading. "you've met him?" he asks incredulously. he has never been summoned either. there has yet to be a guest that requires his guidance.

ren flushes at the attention and averts his eyes, a sheepish smile forming on his face. margaret moves past him to take a seat on the large couch, deep in thoughts that he is perhaps better off to be ignorant of.

"yes. he is... kind. tall, around one hundred eighty centimetres? short grey hair and grey eyes. a power radiates from him, i imagine it's that of a wild card. we only spoke briefly."

"the assistant has a name now," margaret tells them. her voice is still very far away. "ren."

"ren," theo repeats joyfully. he and lavenza have taken to him much more kindly than margaret. from what he knows of marie, ren cannot find reason to resent her for it. "how lovely. ren, lotus... in hanakotoba, it holds the meaning of purity. it's very beautiful how humans have found ways to communicate even through the reproductive organs of plants."

lavenza looks briefly confused, but it washes away in a rush, leaving only happiness on ren's behalf. "congratulations, ren! we should hold a celebration! it may serve as your birthday party!"

neither theo nor margaret understand what a birthday party entails or what its purpose is. ren believes he understands, and is proven right when lavenza clumsily explains what she can remember.

(and it is pointedly not mentioned, but they are all aware that elizabeth is most likely responsible for lavenza’s own knowledge.)

theo says that he will bake the cake and even margaret thaws in the excitement from the two of them, asking about banners and music. they ask ren to retrieve a human ‘cookbook’ for theo and party supplies with help from yu.

“it shall be your first request,” theo says.

he knows of this only secondhand, but aiding a wild card in their journey often involves _requests_ and as an assistant, it may be good experience to ask things of yu before he is given a client of his own.

ren is filled with nerves, but he does not refuse. a good assistant would not refuse and ren will be a good assistant.

he nods and says, “it shall,” with enough vehemence to mask his anxiety, and that is that.

 

* * *

  

when yu visits again, he is in summer clothes. his t shirt reads _university of tokyo_ with a yellow and blue seal. ren is unsure what it is supposed to resemble, further unsure what a ‘university’ is. it sounds adult.

yu speaks with margaret and the master first. ren watches personae summon from the compendium and the master’s powers bringing a fusion into life from cards. it is a beautiful sight, more beautiful still how yu can take so many forms into his soul without crumbling under the weight. ren looks and admires.

finally, those grey eyes turn to him. “hey, ren!”

he’s remembered ren’s name. ren smiles to cover up the bundle of emotion that has formed in his stomach. “hello, yu. i have a request for you, if that’s alright.”

“what do you need?” yu asks, painfully earnest. as a wild card, altruism seeps out of him in all directions with such force that ren wishes to protect him from it, plug the deluge before he causes himself undue pain.

but yu is mature and realised. he holds the world arcana. he does not need protection, least of all from an amnesiac.

“the attendants are having a party,” he says. “i request a cookbook, balloons, a banner, and several of those… colourful cardboard cones with neck straps.”

“party hats,” yu supplies helpfully, but he is laughing. the sound does messy things to ren’s heart.

“party hats… how direct. then: one cookbook, some balloons, one banner, and four party hats. is that too much?”

yu shakes his head. “no, don’t worry, it won’t take long at all. what’s the party for?”

“well,” ren shuffles. “me.”

yu is surprised, but the smile on his face is just as soft as his voice when he speaks. “is it your birthday soon?”

it is not. ren would not know even if it was without a method to tell time. he is aware that he can age because he can sense his body changing at times, his limbs lengthening and his voice deepening, but he is clueless as to the date of his birth.

“in a way,” he says finally in lieu of the truth. it is becoming a habit, one he should break sooner rather than later. as compromise: “there is no method of timekeeping within the velvet room.”

“there isn’t, huh.” yu is thoughtful and beyond their conversation, even though his body and soul remain within arm’s reach. he snaps out of it for the most part, but a fragment of him hovers there, in a world ren cannot fathom.

“i’ll bring you your stuff soon, ren,” he answers, and takes his leave.

ren thinks of him for some time afterwards, long after the velvet room has shifted into its liminal space. belladonna sings on.

 

* * *

  

the next time that yu enters, he does not fulfil ren’s request. ren thinks nothing of it. he has requested very much, after all, and his ambitions would surely cause delays.

yu does not stop to speak with him, but he smiles his pretty smile and that is, ren decides, more than enough.

 

* * *

 

the second time that yu arrives without fulfilling his request, lavenza and theo rope him into a card game. they argue for a time over whether the joker should be played as the trump card or be discarded altogether. their sources all say different things. ren suggests another game, but theo and lavenza refuse to budge, and so he sits for a pocket of time, sand through an hourglass.

before they can decide, margaret arrives and requests a game of monopoly, so they abandon the cards as they are without having reached a conclusion. the joker card remains in flux.

 

* * *

 

the third time yu does not fulfil his request, ren concludes that he may have simply forgotten. a wild card’s life is very busy, after all, and a human life must surely be demanding. it is not as though ren’s request may offer anything in return either, so perhaps it has slipped through a crack in his mind. perhaps time has washed it away into nothing.

ren resolves to remind him, gently of course, but yu does not give him enough time. he speaks in low tones with the master, bows to ren and margaret, and vanishes.

 

* * *

 

a new thought strikes ren after that. perhaps yu has not fulfilled it because he does not care to. perhaps yu does not care for _him._ perhaps ren is insufficient, and perhaps yu has little time for charity.

perhaps.

“he hasn’t fulfilled my request,” he whispers to lavenza, nearly too quiet to be heard. she hears it anyway.

“he will. you need only to be patient, ren.” her words should be reassuring, but all ren can feel is doubt, insidious and suffocating.

“of course,” he replies, and speaks on it no further.

 

* * *

 

on narukami yu’s fourth entry, ren does not look up. he has grown weary of the heartache, so he continues his reading instead.

it is on the fourth entry, however, that narukami yu does not speak with the master. he does not speak with margaret. narukami yu approaches ren directly, and as ren finally takes a peak from beneath his eyelashes, he sees a plastic bag shadowed with purchases.

“hey, ren.” and oh, ren has missed hearing his name from yu. he says it differently from anyone else. “i’m sorry it took so long, but i have your stuff.”

“thank you,” he smiles. the bag is offered to him and ren turns the plastic upside down to spill its contents onto the seats of the limousine.

it is more than he requested. red paper plates, red napkins, packets of tiny, shiny plastic in the shapes of cats and treats, red cutlery, a white banner, six party hats in an array of colours, a package of balloons, an envelope with a card that wishes him a happy birthday, and a thick, new cookbook.

“this is,” ren starts, and finds that he cannot finish. his fingers curl around the card, brush over the signatures of people he does not know and has never met.

“happy birthday. i hope you like red, haha. i know it’s not… exactly what you asked for.” yu has so much kindness contained within him. he is a brilliant beacon of it, it shines through with everything that he does. “but birthdays are pretty important, so me and my friends got a little carried away. it’s from all of us. so’s this.”

he hands a silver rectangular prism to ren, who blinks at it for several seconds. when he presses a button, the display lights up and reads _13:57, SUNDAY 8 JUNE._

“it’s a cell phone,” yu explains. “you can use it to… well, it does a lot of things. there’s the internet, games, messaging, a bunch of stuff. my contact info is already on it in case you need anything.”

it is a lot to take in, but ren tries. he swallows down the lump in his throat and says, very simply, “thank you, yu. it means a lot to me.”

yu just grins, but it slides off of his face at the same time that ren feels a stirring within his heart.

“you have awakened to a new bond,” the master announces. ren turns to him to see the card, but already knows without seeing it that it is,

“the art.”

he is not so useless, after all. he should have known.

they smile at each other and speak for a while afterwards. when yu has gone, ren rubs his chest absently at the new feeling emanating from there. it is different from his crush and different from heartbreak. instead, he feels… stronger. as though the bond is working both ways. he must ask margaret about this.

later.

 

* * *

 

his birthday party is a success. the attendants are just as confused about the tiny plastic shapes as ren is, so he uses his new present to look it up, asking the little search bar about _decorative plastic_ until it supplies the word: confetti.

theo and lavenza, hearing of its use, tear open the packets and toss handfuls of it in the air. the glittering rain of plastic is wasteful, but more beautiful than ren had anticipated by its description from the wise ‘wikipedia.’ he understands the interest in naming it something more novel; _decorative plastic_ does it no justice.

pieces land in margaret’s long hair, but she does nothing to shake them free. she does, however, carefully fish out the confetti that stick to the frosting on the birthday cake. it’s not edible, unfortunately.

they eat the cake that theo has prepared (slightly too sweet, slightly too dry) and sing songs that no human has ever known, old ones from beyond in different melodies from belladonna and nameless’ unending tune.

_“ooour master, our clever master! clever master, what is in your nose? is it a compendium? is it a compendium? or a bug! or a bug! let us check! let us check! in your nose! in your nose! ooooh noooo!”_

 

* * *

 

the first art persona born from yu’s heart is eurydice. margaret hurries to add her name to the compendium, but ren simply takes her in.

she is tall and human in shape, with a viper wrapped tightly around one leg and her hands shielding her face from view. her dress is simple and thin, nothing more than white cloth in a basic cut, but there are tears through pieces of it, perhaps from traversing the underworld.

she does not peel her hands away to regard any of them, only says, “i will lend you my strength,” in a quiet voice that echoes and allows herself to be absorbed into yu’s heart.

 _this is my power,_ ren thinks to himself.

yu speaks with him about university and confetti, explaining with no small amount of animation how he and his friends are faring with a request from two previous generations of persona users. it’s hard, he explains, and not in the least because his friends keep getting scared when some of the persona users turn guns on themselves. yu is trying to get them to bond over fast food and karaoke, to less success than he would hope, but he is more determined than they are different.

that night (and he knows it is night because he has checked his cell phone and found it to be 23:56), ren sleeps and dreams of microphones and french fries.

 

* * *

 

what does the sun feel like?

_Uhhh tough question_

_Warm? It feels good unless you get too much or the UV index is through the roof. Then it starts to burn_

it can burn you?

_Yeah. Your skin turns red and starts to peel. Its like if you got burned by an Agidyne_

your world sounds dangerous.

_Nah its not a problem as long as you’re careful. We have stuff called sunscreen to protect our skin, plus clothes and sunglasses etc_

_You wouldn’t get burned if you decided to come. We’d keep you safe_

 

* * *

 

the velvet room has no innate method of timekeeping, but they all must possess their own, because it is the twenty-second of july and the attendants are somber. ren is not privy to the reason, but he knows better than to ask and does not have the desire to besides.

theo catches him by the arm and murmurs, “margaret, lavenza, and i are going to the great seal.”

suddenly ren understands. elizabeth. he nods, wishes them well, and is left only with silence.

it grates on him quickly; he is an assistant to the oft-empty velvet room, and yet he cannot handle the reassuring atmosphere of silence. rather than clear his mind, it does little more than clog it and set his teeth on edge. he needs something, he needs _sound,_ he needs -

he messages yu without feeling entirely in control of his own body, watches as though underwater when yu replies and ren has nothing to do but wait. the walls continue to close in on him, centimetre by centimetre.

but yu arrives exactly when he said that he would. he’s dressed in another t shirt and shorts, sunglasses resting on the top of his head. the master greets him, then busies himself with seemingly nothing. ren smooths the lapels of his jacket and adjusts his tie, but feels uncomfortably, distinctly, overdressed.

“we’re going to the beach,” yu explains. the master makes no move to stop him, only asks them to fare well and smiles his cryptic smile, so yu takes ren’s hand and guides him out and away from everything that he has ever known.

yu’s world does not fade in so much as it pops into existence, and ren’s first thought is that it is _hot._

the sky hosts a star that beats down on them unforgivingly, casting glares so harsh that he finds that he has to squint in order to see properly. he shields his face instead, his hands providing a comfortable reintroduction to the dark, only to feel something being tapped against them.

“shit,” yu says, but there are other voices as well, floating around in his ears and filling his brain with white noise. “hey, take these. they’re sunglasses, they’ll protect your eyes.”

blindly, he grabs the offered plastic and shoves the little arms on either side of his head. it’s with great hesitance that he cracks his eyes open again, but yu is true to his word and the lenses on the glasses are dark enough that his vision is no longer compromised by a burning star.

“your world _is_ dangerous,” ren hisses in the tone of a man betrayed, blinking until the afterimages in his vision fade away. yu’s body is shaking slightly, as if he is crying and trying to conceal it, or…

“are you laughing at me?”

“no,” yu lies instantly, and is given away a moment later by the snicker that escapes him. he surrenders to it and stands there, laughing, while ren squints and unbuttons his jacket, feeling every bit like an elderly man.

ren pouts at him and ignores the people that mill about the establishments around them. they ignore him in return, for the most part, though some of them pause and take in his outfit - and he knows now with certainty that he is overdressed. once yu has recovered, he smiles, guileless, and spreads an arm out as he bows.

“welcome, ren,” he says in a poor imitation of the master’s voice. “to the human world.”

“thank you.” his voice is dry and sarcastic, but yu is unaffected by it.

“what d’you think?”

taking in his surroundings properly this time, yu’s world is bright and large, all open space and skies so high that ren still yearns to reach up but knows that he could stretch forever without reaching the end. a sun, sidewalks, cars and pedestrians, storefronts and silly little coins; yu’s world is nothing like the velvet room. it is nothing like the world ren knows so well.

why, then, is ren’s second thought: _i know this world._

why, then, does ren look to these streets and feel nostalgic?

why, why, why.

“it’s hot,” he complains, and yu’s grin is a far better reward than he would have received for acknowledging a connection to this world that ren should not have, does not want to have.

yu tells him easily, “you’ll feel better when we get to the beach,” and then they are on the back of a scooter, ren’s eyes closed to hide from the streets that he refuses think that he may once have roamed.

the ride is relaxing, a gentle breeze that they generate keeping ren from overheating in his layers of velvet and cotton.

the ride is also unusual.

ren keeps looking and finds, for brief seconds of stolen time, that where yu’s silver hair is flapping around under his helmet, he is expecting to see longer brown. where he sits on a scooter, he is expecting… more. louder, perhaps. more dangerous, more expensive.

he is looking, and he is expecting more than what he has found. he is expecting so much more, so much _close_ and yet _different,_ so much that a part of him feels lost in the differences, and yet he cannot remember why.

when ren hears a chorus of, “senpai! senpai!” and, opening his eyes, sees a group of people waving their arms around, dressed in swim clothes and smiling, he decides to think on the event no further.

“don’t worry, they’re friendly,” yu whispers to him as they pull into a parking spot and make their way over to the group.

ren frowns and says that he is not worried, that an assistant has no room for worry, and refuses to hear anything different.

all of yu’s friends introduce themselves so quickly that ren struggles to keep up. hanamura yosuke, satonaka chie, amagi yukiko, tatsumi kanji, kujikawa rise, shirogane naoto, teddie. teddie, unlike the others, is both a shadow and a human - ren can recognise his signature easily.

teddie is also the one to provide him swimming clothes of his own; a grey t shirt and red shorts that yu had picked up on his way to the velvet room. ren is taken to a changing area and puts the clothes on quickly, but pauses at the feeling of it.

there is something familiar about wearing such informal clothes, even though he has never wore them before, and he looks down at himself for a time, sand through the hourglass once more, and he remembers -

_a voice accompanying two knocks on the bathroom door. he searches even more rapidly for his swim goggles. "████, come on, we have to go! mama and papa are waiting outside.”_

_“i can’t find my goggles, niichan! give me a minute!”_

_there is a loud sigh from the other side of the door. “one minute, okay?”_

_“one minute!” he’s very frantic now, sifting through his bag as quickly as his small hands will allow until his fingers catch on something rubber and he pulls -_

“ren?” teddie asks, because it is teddie, because ren has been standing in the changing room for far too long.

“one minute!” he calls in a voice that does not waver, and rubs eyes that do not still see a bathroom that he has never before been inside of.

ren folds his clothes neatly, perfectly, to prevent creasing and make them easy to slip into a bag. his hands do not shake.

“there you are!” yosuke says when he finally steps out in his swimming clothes, as though nothing has happened. because nothing has happened. “let’s get to the others. you know how to swim?”

there is a moment where ren wants to scream that he does not know anything, that he stands here in a changing room in inaba and longs for a beautiful bathroom with a family that he may have left behind, that he may be human or he may be a god of destruction but the uncertainty over which has worn him down enough that he no longer wants to protect anyone more than he wants to know the truth. there is a moment where he wishes to say that, any of it, and see how they will react.

but it is only a moment.

“i don’t,” he replies, pulling on his fringe once more and following the guys back out to the beach. “i hope it isn’t too hard…?”

 

* * *

 

swimming, as it turns out, is nearly painless with the patient guidance of yu’s friends. it takes some time to warm up and grow accustomed to his surroundings, but ren is enjoying himself immensely, laughing and smiling and speaking so casually with more people than he has ever met at once, more people than he has ever met _at all._ this is far better than an empty velvet room. this is far better than a maze.

and then kanji loses his swimming clothes in the water.

when he stands, reproductive organs on full display, rise lets out a wordless scream and puts her hands over ren’s face, crying out, “KANJI! THERE ARE CHILDREN!”

“i’m not a child,” ren pouts, but rise is hearing none of it. her hands over his eyes only get more firm.

“the hell are you -” ren doesn’t need his sight to picture kanji’s face in his realisation, but he still wishes he had it. “OH _FUCK!_ NOT AGAIN!”

“S-SENSEI, QUICK! WE NEED TO FIND SEAWEED AND COVER KANJI’S MASCULINITY! HE’S SCARING THE GIRLS! AGAIN!”

“GROSS, KANJI! HERE, I’LL SAVE THE KID! _ARRRGH!”_

“H-HEY, N-NO, WHAT’RE YOU - HELP! HELP! YUKIKO! CHIE! S-STOP!”

“I’M SORRY, KANJI, BUT THIS IS THE ONLY WAY!”

“we have the seaweed - CHIE! YUKIKO! STOP IT, HE’S GONNA DROWN!”

 

* * *

 

when the sun begins to set over the horizon, the group finally decides to leave for dinner. they chatter as they walk, about school and television shows that ren knows nothing about (he does not, he admits to himself and no one else, even know what a ‘television’ is). ren finds that he does not mind sticking to the shadows though, letting the waves of conversation wash over him and thinking, blissfully, of nothing.

“hello, ren,” naoto greets. she is hanging back from the rest of the group as well, calculating eyes focused on him. “we haven’t had much time to speak with each other. you said you’re an assistant of the velvet room?”

“a world between dreams and reality, mind and matter,” ren recites.

“how long have you been there?”

ren kicks a stray rock and watches it skip down the street, rolling until its momentum can propel it no further. “i don’t know. time does not exist there as it does here. if i had to guess… several gregorian months.”

“and are you… happy?”

she is being very inquisitive - and very cautious - for reasons that ren cannot place. perhaps it is in her nature.

 _is_ he happy, though?

he wants for nothing, he resides with people who care for him, he has celebrated a birthday party, he is spending time with a group of close-knit friends and finding acceptance without any caveats.

is that happiness?

“this is all that i have,” ren tries, saying none of that.

and naoto asks, quietly enough that it cannot carry in the wind to any eavesdroppers, “what if it isn’t?”

ren paralyses, there is no other word for it - his limbs simply shut down while his head pounds with white noise. there is still a slight smile on his face, seared on as though it has been painted there, or branded. naoto watches him carefully, saying nothing else.

he thinks of niichan, of someone tall and brunet, of swim goggles. of a life outside of the velvet room, away from theo and lavenza and margaret and the master, away from eurydice -

but chie chooses this moment to yell something that ren doesn’t catch, tearing the tension like paper, and naoto looks briefly agitated before her features school back into something soft and friendly. ren’s aching face tugs a confused edge to his smile. his feet begin to move once more.

naoto tries, all the way until yu puts on his helmet to drive ren back to the velvet room, to continue the conversation, but ren does not take the bait.

he feels her eyes linger even as the others turn away for their own scooters. ren feels exposed by her stare, pinned, for days after he has gone back to the velvet room.

 

* * *

 

“how was your visit to the human world?” theo asks when they have all been reunited once more. his eyes are rimmed red, but his voice remains steady.

“your skin has darkened!” lavenza cries, and ren is surprised to find that she is right, that he has _tanned._ there is physical evidence of his visit, how novel.

“it was…” he searches for a single word to describe his experience and comes up short. there is no succinct way to describe both joy and fear, is there?

“oxymoronic,” he settles on, and retires to bed without elaborating.

 

* * *

  

the next art persona that yu brings into creation is aeneas.

“hello,” ren whispers, thinking of the character in theo’s book. aeneas does not appear to hear him before he is taken into yu’s heart.

he dreams of the underworld that night, styx and lethe and fortunate isles spiralling in technicolour.

 

* * *

 

_hey ren its kanji_

_could u fill in 4 a costume fitting?_

hello.

i don’t understand.

_the model im doin this 4 cant make it n i need an actual person to see how the folds r gonna look in motion. mannequin wont cut it_

_ur pretty close to the build im lookin 4 so itd be cool if u could stop by the textile shop n try it on_

um.

_u dont have to if u dont wanna_

_no pressure or nothin_

no pressure.

i’ll go to your textile shop shortly.

_4 reals? thx sm ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ_

 

* * *

 

they spend an afternoon at a diner next, only ren and yu. ren attempts to hold a conversation using topics that the knowledgeable ‘wikihow’ has suggested. their articles have provided him great insight into the intricacies of human interaction, and he is very careful to keep his questions open-ended.

yu begins a passionate rant about the time that stray cats started loitering around his uncle’s home, forgetting about his food entirely.

ren watches him, his face more flushed than it should be under the circumstances, and believes he has failed the ‘wikihow’s step six.

 

* * *

 

_Ren-kun!_

_I need you to settle a debate!_

_Which is scarier: clowns, ghosts, or zombies?_

why do you ask?

_Well, Naoto says ghosts are super scary and Chie says that clowns are way spookier._

_*I* think that zombies are worse than either of those but Yukiko always takes Chie’s side and Naoto won’t budge when she thinks she’s right. >:T _

_So I decided to ask you as our tie-breaker!_

it feels like i am being led into a specific conclusion. but…

i don’t see anything scary about clowns. the internet says they have big shoes, and squishy red noses.

in terms of genuine threat, i think zombies are scarier.

_YAY I WIN!!!!!_

_THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!! <3<3<3<3<3 _

 

* * *

 

after an evening with chie and yosuke, margaret is wearing apron that reads ‘does not cook well with others’ in large lettering. theo is looking between his cookbook and a charred piece of… something, on the plate in front of him. he does not look up at ren’s appearance, but margaret does.

“you’ve been leaving the velvet room quite often as of late,” she says gravely. there is a smear of sauce across her cheek.

he shrugs. “yu’s friends enjoy my company. it would be rude to refuse.”

“we are happy for you!” theo smiles, then frowns once again at the plate. “sister, this appears nothing like the image.”

“i know!” she snaps. margaret pinches the bridge of her nose, leaving more sauce on her face that she makes no effort to remove. “ren… i only ask that you do not forget your duty to the velvet room.”

“i won’t,” ren assures her, because he will not. he understands her worry, and he takes no offence to her brand of caring, but it is unfounded.

he changes the subject before she can upset herself further.

 

* * *

 

apropos of nothing, the master summons ren alone. without the other attendants, the velvet room welcomes them to the maze and its tall hedges.

more often now than before, ren wonders what is at the end.

ren bows deeply, keeping his hands relaxed at his sides despite how much they wish to curl into anxious fists.

“you called for me, master?”

the master nods and, for minutes, it is quiet. he looks out to the maze instead, old and powerful eyes inspecting every corner of the entrance with an unreadable expression, and ren feels… insecure. exposed, like he had felt with shirogane naoto.

when the master does speak, ren can’t help but jump in surprise at the sudden sound.

“the world will soon change, my assistant,” he tells ren, folding his hands together. “this era of peace is coming to a close. in only days, philemon’s next game shall begin.”

oh. ren understands now. “i am prepared for my duty, master,” he says firmly. “i will not fail the wild card.”

the master does not tsk, but it is a near thing, and ren’s mouth turns to mask his embarrassment.

“do not be overconfident. the game will be unjust. the velvet room shall fall to a powerful entity, and my form imitated while my true spirit becomes imprisoned. your task will be most difficult, my assistant, more difficult than the task of any attendant before you. you will not have the support of the others, nor any wild card before you. even the velvet room itself shall work against you to tempt humanity into ruin.”

it is a lot to take in. ren sits, does not know what to do with his hands. thinks about yu, about the friends that have quickly become his own, about margaret and theo and lavenza. about the place in these worlds that he has slowly carved for himself, reluctantly and then all at once.

he understands, with sharp, painful clarity, how elizabeth must have felt before the end.

helpless. self-sacrificing.

“what will become of the attendants?” he asks, and does not bother to hide the wavering in his voice. he doesn’t think he could even if he desired to.

“they will find themselves in the human world until your task is completed. you are not to involve any of them, nor the wild cards and their confidants. the imposter is not to obtain any new players in its game.”

the shaking in his hands is so severe that ren feels like he is freezing, a bufudyne leaving him frozen and aching on this bench, waiting for a single strike to shatter him to pieces.

“i will do as you ask, master.” he will keep them safe, and he will aid the wild card in saving their worlds - not because it is what he has been trained to do, but because it is what he _wants_ to do.

“i have great faith in your ability, ren,” the master says.

faith must be enough. ren will _force_ it so.

 

* * *

 

the art persona that follows after this, only one day later, is er. his body, partially transparent and partially substantial, is humanoid and clad in bulky armour. he looks at ren for a moment too long, a gaze heavy enough to put a physical weight on ren himself, before it cuts to yu.

“thou art i, and i am thou. i have seen worlds and perceived many truths… i will lend you my sight!”

it bellows and reverberates, too large for a limousine, and yu takes him into his heart without struggle.

when he asks ren, later, about what he’s been up to in the velvet room, ren holds tightly to his resolve and says,

“nothing at all.”

 

* * *

 

_WULD U LIKE 2 SPEND A NITE @ AMAGI INN W US?_

i’m sorry, but i have duties in the velvet room.

_THTS OK. MAYB NEXT TIME_

 

* * *

  

“something is changing,” margaret remarks. one of her hands has reached up to hold onto a patch of the velvet room that has begun to ripple like water. more hesitantly: “have any of you felt… weaker, recently?”

theo and lavenza are frightened when they agree. ren, too, agrees, even though the fire in his heart has only seemed to grow stronger. the master’s warning rings in his ears.

“i fear,” theo starts in a tone quite close to breaking. “that we are coming upon a time of great change. this next game may prove… formidable.”

“the wild card _will_ succeed,” ren swears. “i will not accept anything else.”

it isn’t that the others do not believe him, but there is a fear within them that simple reassurance will not soothe. ren tries not to take it personally and settles on asking nameless about the world he witnessed before his eyes were closed.

 

* * *

 

when yu arrives and the seats of the limousine are black instead of blue, he notices.

“the velvet room looks different.”

the master smiles, wan, and says, “the velvet room is in a process of change.”

it is the least that he could say; when yu is not here, the velvet room becomes so rippled that it is difficult to see properly. theo and lavenza have taken to spending their time in the sitting area together, hands tightly linked to protect them from an inevitability that they are terrified to face.

margaret changes the subject.

 

* * *

 

“tomorrow,” the master says. “with what remains of my power, i must shield you. the imposter cannot know that you are not an attendant.”

“whatever must be done.”

the pain of transformation rips screams out of ren, agonising and guttural. it feels as though his very skin is being torn away from him in chunks, his eyes being bathed in acid and replaced with something new, his body bending and breaking and _snapping_ with such force, such violence, such agony that it is all he can do to continue breathing.

in the aftermath, when he’s retired to a restroom to wipe his face of the tears that coat it, he looks into the mirror and sees theo, margaret, lavenza…

he does not see ren.

 

* * *

 

hours remain.

the velvet room has become so distorted that ren hides in his bedroom as if it will protect him. the attendants have taken to demanding information from the master that he refuses to give to anyone but ren, and ren wants -

for a weak, broken moment, he wants to have never met narukami yu and his friends at all. he thinks, angry and hurting, that margaret was right; ren becoming too friendly, too lax with his duties, was a mistake. ren should have never left the velvet room.

the master should have cleansed him of these memories as he has been cleansed of his previous life.

stuck in his head as he is, he does not realise that he is knocking things over until something plush lands at his feet. he crouches down to it, only to be greeted by a stuffed animal in the appearance of a cat. kanji had made it for him, a gift for helping him with his costumes.

how traitorous of him, how _cowardly,_ to wish to have never formed his bonds. he takes out his cell phone, another kind gift from people that he would _never_ wish to forget, and scrolls until yu’s contact information appears. there is one last task given by the ‘wikihow,’ one small tip that he needs to follow.

 

* * *

 

yu, the next game will begin soon. unlike during your own journey, i will not be able to contact you. please do not try to contact me yourself.

tell your friends that i will miss them and that we will speak again after the game has been won. as for you…

i think many people have told you this, but i have had a crush on you for some time. the internet calls it kitten love. when they say it, it's meant to be derogatory, but i think you would appreciate it. the internet also says that, given our ages, nothing should ever come of these feelings. i understand, and it never occurred to me to expect anything anyway. i only tell you this to be honest about the only thing that i can afford.

until we meet again, yu. thank you for everything.

**YOU HAVE BLOCKED THIS NUMBER.**

 

* * *

  

ren squeezes the cat tightly in his arms and buries his face into the fabric, surrendering to his tears.

“i’m sorry,” he croaks to it, and can’t stop. he isn’t sure what he’s apologising for. perhaps everything - for staining the material, leaving his friends behind, hiding the truth, holding the plush too tightly.

 

* * *

 

the velvet room is never without appearance. whether an elevator, or a limousine, or any number of inventions, its nature is to adapt. in the times where there is no guest for which to provide guidance, it simply reverts to a previous form, belladonna singing her eternal song to nameless’ eternal music. for much of the same reason, the attendant of the velvet room changes to meet these forms, masks and masks used as needed.

ren knows he is an attendant, his hair shiny silver, his eyes inhuman yellow. he stands next to a prison cell with a warden’s outfit tailored perfectly to his form, and regards a groaning wild card that he has heard precious little about.

“igor -” akechi goro - and it must be akechi goro - stops and regards him with expected hostility, offering a scowl that ren ignores. “hey, who the hell are you?”

“he is ren, my attendant and your warden,” the god who is not igor says grandly. “he will be crucial to the realisation of your justice.”

ren bows, polite and measured.

“welcome,” he says. “to the velvet room.”


End file.
